


Touching

by FettsOnTop (GTFF)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Accidental Use of the Force, F/M, Force-Sensitive Leia Organa, Massage, Pre-ANH, Prompt Fill, RebelBounty, Tattoos, Undercover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 11:17:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18387356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GTFF/pseuds/FettsOnTop
Summary: The prompt was for Undercover Assignment + Hotel + Comfort. This is what my brain came up with.





	Touching

“Are you you ready?”

Leia straightened her shoulders and looked the Zeltron commander in the eyes. “Yes.”

“This is your final assignment,” Commander Tanette said, arching one of her thin brows. “And I’ve chosen it carefully. Your father trusted me with your safety, but even training exercises carry some risk.”

“I understand, and I’m ready.”

“This is no ordinary mercenary. Fett is the closest thing bounty hunters have to royalty, and that is a not a title that is easily kept.”

“I can handle it.”

The commander’s lips twisted in a bemused smirk. “You’re very confident. Use that. Don’t hesitate. If you make a mistake, correct your course as you go.” She looked down at the chronometer on her wrist guard. “I need forty-five minutes standard to plant the tracking device on his ship. He must not leave his hotel room, but even more importantly, he must not become suspicious.” She gave Leia one last assessing look. “I’m counting on you. Go.”

Au’bopan was a mid-rim resort town, a port where ships were constantly coming and going and the population changed daily. It was a very good place for someone to go unnoticed, especially at one of the larger commercial hotels. Leia made her way through the crowd of newly arrived tourists, dodging around younglings and hoverflats piled high with luggage.

“I’m here to give a massage,” she told the Besalisk at the front desk, who waved her on with one hand while the other three juggled commlinks.

No one even gave her a second look as she moved down the hall. Her pulse quickened as she drew closer to the door.

Don’t hesitate.

Her fingers touched the door panel, and the panel lit up. The door opened almost immediately. She was expected, after all.

Inside, a man stood waiting. He looked as if he had just showered, he wore nothing except for a towel tucked around his waist.

“You called for a massage.” She never felt a second of anxiety about being recognized. Commander Tanette was truly a master of disguise, she made Leia’s face look completely unlike itself. Her nose appeared thicker, her lips thinner, her eyes closer together. Her hair was bound up in a yellow scarf that matched the yellow and white uniform she wore.

But the seconds ticked by and there were suddenly too many of them. He should have spoken by now. He was too still. His sharp brown eyes were fixed unnervingly on her face.

“You’re young,” Fett said, so abruptly that she nearly flinched. “Where’s Ado’a?”

“I don’t know.” Tanette told her it was always better to truthful and vague. It was more suspicious to be well-informed.

“Hm.”

“Are you ready to begin?” She looked pointedly at the padded table behind him. The hotel staff had everything set up. There was even a stack of clean cloths and bottle of oil sitting on a nearby chair.

“Yes.” He turned away from her and tugged the towel free.

Well.

Observation was an important tool, Tanette told her. Notice everything.

It still felt wrong to notice the bounty hunter’s shapely ass. Unprofessional for both an intelligence agent and a masseuse.

It was probably just mission jitters. Diverted adrenaline. She crossed over to the chair and examined the bottle of oil as if required a thorough inspection while the bounty hunter stretched out face-down on the table.

Instead of laying flat he rested his head on his folded arms. Leia was grateful that his face was turned away so he missed her fumbling with the covering that stretched over his midsection and fastened to the opposite side of the table. She exhaled as she straightened, trying to put herself into the mentality of a masseuse who must see countless half-naked bodies, attractive and not.   

Hmm.

There was a small, round tattoo on the nape of his neck. The symbol looked vaguely familiar, as if she’d seen it in a book or a datafile somewhere.

Maybe she should try to get him talking. He might say something she could pass along to Tanette. Something useful. It also might keep him from noticing that her massage skills were the result of a one hour crash course provided by an instructional holo.

“So,” she said as she picked up the bottle of oil. “what brings you to Au’bopan?”

“Ship maintenance.”

“Oh?”

“Yup.”

The slick sound of her hands rubbing together was the only noise in the room. Well, maybe once she got started he would relax a little. She moved towards the end of the table and laid her hand on his ankle.

Fett jerked violently as if she’d struck him, causing her to snatch her hand back. He said nothing, but his shoulders were hunched and the muscles in his back were visibly tight.

“Are you...ticklish?”

“It’s fine. Keep going.”

She touched his heel, thinking that might be less sensitive, but he reacted with the same convulsion. His toes curled and she could have sworn she heard him grinding his teeth.

“Uh…”

“ _Keep going_ ,” he said in a voice that was almost a snarl. “I’ll tell you if I want you to stop.”

Leia folded her arms over her chest and glared at him. “Before or after you kick me in the head?”

He exhaled and pushed his forehead into his arms. “It’s always like this at first,” he said, his voice muffled. “Ado’a usually charges me double.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Gingerly she reached out her hand again. His calf turned to to stone beneath her palm, but he didn’t jerk away. Her fingers spread, and she stroked up, trying to coax some kind of pliancy from him. “Is it something you can get treatment for?”

“This _is_ my treatment.”

Leia started at his ankle again, kneading firmly up the back of his taut leg. This seemed like the opposite of relaxation to her, but as long it occupied him Tanette had the time she needed. “Maybe you should get treated more often.”

He shifted a little on the table, his shoulders rising and falling too quickly. “Maybe.”

“It’s not as if you can live your life without people touching you.”

“You might be surprised.”

No. No kriffing way she was going to feel sorry for some barve who hunted people for money. She started kneading the other leg, already seeing an difference in his response. He was tense, but not reacting in distress.

As she worked she thought about the tall grasses in the plains of Alderaan, and the way the slender stalks bent beneath her spread hand. Ever since she was a child she had loved smoothing them down and watching them spring back up. They were so responsive, at times it seemed as if she didn’t even need to touch them before they gave way.

Giving a massage felt a little like that. As if she was trying to smooth down the muscles bristling beneath her palm. _Relax_. _Relax. Relaxrelaxrelax._

There was a scar just below his right knee, from an old but deep wound. It looked like he’d nearly lost his leg and hadn’t spent nearly enough time in bacta. She applied more oil to her hands and stroked up and down both calves, letting heat and friction smooth away the last of the tension.

By the time she moved up to his back, his breathing had slowed. He was moving with her hands, his eyes half shut. She counted three blast marks on his back and sides and a scar that was probably from a blade. 

Her eyes returned to the tattoo on the back of his neck. Tanette said he was bounty hunter royalty. What exactly had she meant by that? She cleared her throat. “That’s an interesting tattoo. Does it mean anything?”

“It means I was in prison.” He said it without a trace of shame. “There’s microdata in the ink that can be read with the right kind of scanner.”

Her pulse skipped, but she forced her hands to keep moving. Don’t hesitate. Correct your course as you go.

“And if I had a scanner?” She kept her voice light as she kneaded her way up his spine, pressing into him with her knuckles. _Relaxrelaxrelax._ “What would it say about you?”

“It would say that I’m very dangerous.” He exhaled and arched his back a little. “I tried to murder the man who killed my father."

“Oh.”

He turned his head, watching her from the corner of his eye. “You don’t scare easily, do you?”

“People tell me all kinds of things.” She began to work his shoulders at the base of his neck and he made a satisfied sound, his head dropping back to his arms.

The really surprising thing was not his crime but that the Republic Detention System stopped tattooing prisoners almost twenty years ago and she would have put Fett’s age at early to mid-thirties. He must have been very young.

“I told you the truth because I want to do this again,” he said, his head still buried in the cradle of his arms. “You’re very good.”

“Better than Ado’a?” Leia wasn’t sure whether to be flattered or suspicious.

“Different. You’re not as experienced. But you’re...soothing.”

Leia dug her fingers into his shoulders and took a quick look at the chronometer on the wall. “The agency does the scheduling.”

“Off the books, then.”

It was hard to interpret his tone when she couldn’t see his face. “Maybe you’re looking for something other than a massage,” she replied cautiously.

His back tensed a little beneath her fingers. “This is your job. I don’t mix business and pleasure.”

“That’s a good policy.” Her fingers squeezed at the base of his neck, and he relaxed again with a soft hum. There was something sort of satisfying about this kind of work. She was _helping_ in an immediate, tactile way. Not through policies and procedures. Not through subterfuge and secrecy.

He found her _soothing_. It wasn't a word she heard that often. She was more likely to hear 'abrasive.' Ambitious. Demanding. _Difficult_. 

She stroked her palm up and down his back, helped by the remaining traces of oil. His eyes were shut. He was handsome like this, without the wary eyes and the hard jawline. Once this mission was done, her time with Tanette was finished. It would be on to the next training devised by her father, and it was likely to be far less exciting.

Her hand stilled at the small of his back. “This session is finished,” she said, her voice low. “But I have a little time before my next appointment.”

The bounty hunter opened his eyes. “For business or pleasure?”

“Definitely not business,” she said, her voice steady in spite of her racing pulse. “As for pleasure...we'll see about that."


End file.
